At the end of the Yuan Dynasty, they called me a demonic monk.

Fang Yingyu's pupils trembled slightly. In the sunlight, Ruan Shanruo's unadorned face was more radiant and beautiful than ever before. The damp hem of her skirt clung to her calves, outlining her slender figure. He had never seen her like this before—unadorned, yet so beautiful that he was completely mesmerized.

"It's different," he said bitterly. "You're the daughter of the Ruan family, I'm just..."

"Just what?" Ruan Shanru waded towards him. "Just the benefactor who saved me and my mother? Just the boy I think about day and night? Or," she suddenly leaned closer, so close that Fang Yingyu could smell the faint floral scent in her hair, "Do you think my affection is so cheap, that I can so easily fall for someone?"

Fang Yingyu's breath hitched. He couldn't believe his ears: "Like...like?"

"You blockhead!" Ruan Shanruo stomped her foot angrily, splashing water everywhere. "Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

The babbling brook reflected Ruan Shanruo's stubborn face in its clear waters. She stood in the ankle-deep water, her expensive silk skirt soaked through and clinging to her skin, but she paid no heed. Her almond-shaped eyes, shimmering with water and unwavering determination, were fixed on Fang Yingyu on the bank, as if trying to see through all his hesitation and retreat, determined to await a final response.

Fang Yingyu's Adam's apple bobbed violently, his heart pounding in his ears like a drum, so loud that he could barely hear the sound of the stream. His world spun around him at that moment. He had never dared to imagine that the aloof and unapproachable Miss Ruan, like the moon in the clouds, would abandon all her reserve and so directly and passionately reveal her feelings to him.

He opened his mouth, a thousand words churning in his chest, a mixture of surprise and deeper fear making his throat tight, unsure where to begin. Almost instinctively, he reached out, wanting to touch this unreal dream before him.

However, before his fingertips could even touch it, a sharp call shattered the tranquil and fragile moment like a bucket of cold water.

"sister!"

Ruan Yichen's voice broke the silence between them. He strode over, glanced at Fang Yingyu with a complicated expression, then grabbed Ruan Shanruo's wrist and whispered, "Go back quickly! We have important guests at home, and Father has ordered people to search for you everywhere!"

Ruan Shanruo frowned, forcefully shaking off her brother's hand: "What kind of distinguished guest is worth making such a fuss about? I'm not going back!"

Ruan Yichen pursed his lips, his gaze shifting between his sister and Fang Yingyu, who stood frozen in place. After a moment's hesitation, he finally managed to reveal the truth with difficulty: "It's... the Song family father and son have arrived."

The words "Song family" pierced through Ruan Shanruo's courage like an icicle. Her face turned ashen, and the burning stubbornness she had shown vanished in an instant, replaced by a near-desperate panic.

Fang Yingyu noticed her unusual behavior and couldn't help but ask, "The Song family?"

Fang Yingyu keenly sensed the sudden change in her emotions, her heart tightened inexplicably, and she couldn't help but ask, "Which Song family?"

Ruan Yichen sighed heavily, turned his gaze to Fang Yingyu, and said in a deep voice, with a hint of cruelty that he could not bear to say but had to: "Song Yunzai from the Song family in Hangzhou... he is my sister's betrothed since childhood."

The words "fiancé" struck Fang Yingyu like a bolt from the blue. He froze on the spot, his blood seemingly freezing in that instant. The surging, passionate emotions he had felt were instantly frozen and buried, leaving only a chilling cold.

Ruan Shanruo turned her head sharply and glared at her younger brother: "Who told you to talk back!"

Ruan Yichen said helplessly, "Sister, I just received a letter. They set off from Hangzhou and will arrive in Yuanzhou this afternoon. Father has already ordered a banquet to be prepared. Uncle Song is coming to discuss the wedding date in person."

Ruan Shanruo's fingers gripped the wet hem of her skirt tightly. She looked at Fang Yingyu, her eyes filled with helplessness, struggle, and the last glimmer of hope.

Fang Yingyu felt a tightness in his chest, almost making it hard to breathe. He forced a smile, his voice dry and hoarse: "Miss Ruan... since your father has such an important guest, you... you should go back quickly." He didn't even dare to say "you" again, subconsciously widening the distance between them once more.

"Fang Yingyu!" Ruan Shanruo's eyes suddenly reddened, her voice trembling slightly, filled with disbelief, disappointment, and sadness, "You...you really...have nothing to say?"

Fang Yingyu remained silent for a moment before finally saying in a low voice, "Miss Ruan is of noble status, and her marriage is a matter of great importance, so she should naturally obey her parents' wishes."

Ruan Shanruo stared intently at him, as if trying to etch every subtle expression on his face into her heart. After a long while, she suddenly let out a very soft and cold laugh, a laugh filled with endless disappointment and self-mockery: "Fine... very well."

She turned resolutely, her soaked skirt trailing heavily on the mud and pebbles, splashing up cool, fine water droplets, and left without looking back. Fang Yingyu was left standing frozen by the babbling brook.

Ruan Yichen glanced at Fang Yingyu, hesitated, and finally just shook his head before quickly following his sister.

Fang Yingyu stood there, watching the two figures walk further and further away. Her chest felt like it was being crushed by a boulder, and even breathing became difficult.

He slowly crouched down, oblivious to the fact that the icy stream water had soaked his trouser legs. His fingertips touched a jade pendant that its owner had left among the pebbles, still carrying the faint fragrance of her hair and the coolness of the stream. He clenched it tightly in his palm; the hard edges prickled his skin painfully, but it was nothing compared to the dull ache in his heart.

Looking up, that lotus-colored figure had long since disappeared at the end of the village road, only the babbling brook remained, reflecting the empty bank and the desolate sky.

—It turns out that there was ultimately an insurmountable chasm between them.

In September, the city of Yuanzhou was in full bloom with roses. In the back garden of the Ruan family mansion, clusters of pink and white roses were in full bloom, their petals still glistening with morning dew, reflecting a crystalline brilliance in the sunlight.

Ruan Ruan, the head steward of the Ruan family, had the servants busy at work early in the morning. He stood on the stone steps in front of the main hall, his voice not loud but extremely authoritative: "Wipe the windows of the east wing again. The great scholar Song is very particular, so we must not let him see even a speck of dust. The eight-treasure duck in the kitchen should be simmered over a low flame. The master specifically instructed that it should be seasoned with osmanthus wine harvested last year."

"Uncle An, the Song family's sedan chair has arrived at the alley entrance!" A servant rushed over to report.

Upon hearing this, Ruan Ruan immediately straightened his clothes and strode towards the inner courtyard. After passing through two moon gates, he stopped in front of the embroidered pavilion of the eldest young lady, Ruan Shanruo, and respectfully reported, "Miss, the great scholar Song and young master Song have arrived at the alley entrance. Master wants you to prepare to go and greet them."